A Good Kind of Weird
by allyg1990
Summary: ...distinctly aware of the fact that A. Fang had seen my bare backside and B. if I tried to strangle him, I’d risk dropping my towel and giving him an even better view. No thanks! FAX. First maximum ride fanfic, reviews would be nice. .


Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride. It belongs to James Patterson

Hot water is totally underrated.

Cold water is well enough- hey, when you're on the run, you take what you can get- but there's something about a sizzling hot shower that can make a mutant bird kid feel almost…normal. And clean, even if it never lasts long. It's only on the rare occasion that the flock and I actually get to clean ourselves up that I realize how dirty I get—and how freaking bad the stench must be. It's a horrifying thought.

So there I was, stepping out of the shower with steam billowing out around me like I'm some freaky swamp monster creeping out of the mist, when I realized that I didn't bring any clothes. No problem, right? Ella's at school, Mom's on duty at her practice and the rest of the flock are watching some cheesy Disney movie downstairs. I don't blame them—they need all the normal-kid experiences they can get.

I ventured out of the bathroom, securely bundled up in a fluffy white towel, smiling to myself as I heard Gazzy belting out 'The Circle of Life'. The hallway was totally empty, so it didn't really bother me to be strolling down the middle of it with everything from the knees down and armpits up completely exposed. It's a little more skin than I usually like to show, especially when I've recently been ripped up by another set of dumb robots. The Voice was right, Itex really is like the Hydra—it won't freaking well _die. _And Mom being Mom stitched up one of my bigger battle wounds, right across my lower back, even though bird kid super healing meant that it would close up in like ten minutes.

Stupid stitches. It was a nice gesture, but now that everything's healed up, they just itch like crazy. Also, the towel, fluffy as it was, wasn't really helping with that. So once I was safely in the room I shared with Ella (with the door _locked,_ I might add) , I slid the towel around so that it covered my front but left my back, including the itchy stitches (try saying that ten times really fast) blissfully bare. Much better. Apart from the fact that my butt-naked butt was totally exposed. But that was okay- the door was locked, no-one was going to see it, right?

Wrong.

With a click the door shot open and I screeched like the bird brain I am, spinning around to see who it was.

"Fang!" I yelled, turning as red as a really ripe tomato, "What the _hell_ are you doing?" He smirked, leaning against my doorframe as if he didn't have a care in the world.

"Enjoying the view." He quipped, and if it was possible, I blushed even harder, distinctly aware of the fact that A) Fang had seen my bare backside and B) if I tried to strangle him, I'd risk dropping my towel and giving him an even _better_ view. No thanks.

"Get. Out." I hissed through clenched teeth. "That door was locked. Does that mean nothing to you?" He shrugged.

"Guess your lock broke." He lied smoothly, as if neither of us were a hundred percent aware that he picked it in five seconds flat. The question was: Why?

"What do you want?" I shot back. "I thought you were watching the Lion King with the rest of the flock." He pulled a face.

"Singing and dancing cartoon lions? I'm great without, thanks." I rolled my eyes.

"Whatever. If you won't get out, at least close your eyes while I get something on. Any peeking, and god help me, I'll poke your eyes out. You'll be blinder than Iggy." I promised. He grinned, and my stomach performed an unexpected flip.

"No peeking." He assured me, plastering his hands over his eyes and turning around. I eyed him for a minute, checking for eyes in the back of his head or something similar. (Hey, what do I know? Between Nudge's magnetism and Angel talking to fish, we get some pretty strange new skills.) When I was satisfied that he was telling the truth, I sprinted to the cupboard, pulling on any random clothes I could find. Ella had dumped a whole load of things (complete with wing slits in the back) into a spare drawer for me, and it didn't take too long to fish out a pair of jeans and a shirt.

"Done." I announced at last, "You can open your eyes." But he'd already started turning around, snickering when he saw my top.

"What's with the backless tank top?" He asked. "Are you going for the 'revealing, with no need to slice it up' kind of look?" I huffed.

"I just grabbed the first thing I saw, you numbskull." I said tightly. "And as for revealing, you're lucky I'm showing _this _much skin. I'm not sure I'm too keen on you seeing much more." His face suddenly hardened.

"Oh, _now_ that kind of stuff matters." He said sarcastically, dark eyes flashing. "Would you really care so much if you only liked me in a brother-sister way, like you obviously want to?" I flushed.

_Why do you think that?_ I wanted to ask, but I went for a diversion instead, breaking the sudden (long) silence.

"Can you check my stitches?" I blurted out. "They're itchy. I hope I haven't kept them in too long or something." Silently, wordlessly, he took a step or two closer and I turned around, giving him full view of my less than clothed back. His fingers probed along my lower back and I hissed as they grazed along my wound—though maybe less from the pain from than the weird, tingly feeling that I got wherever his warm fingers touched my skin.

Unexpectedly, the palms of his hands crept up, fingers sliding along my still-damp skin until they reached the base of my wings, pausing to gently press down on the balls of knotted muscle surrounding them. I bit my lip. That felt _good_.

"F-Fang?" I stuttered, not really daring to move. "The stitches?" He leant forward, his lips so close to my skin that it was almost as if he was about to kiss the back of my neck. His cool breath raced down my spine like a shiver, eliciting a real one in the process.

"Your stitches are fine." He mumbled, sliding his hands up to my shoulders and spinning me around until I was facing him. "But nothing else is." I swallowed, keeping my gaze fixed downwards, really, _really_ not too happy about having to meet his eyes. I didn't get a choice though, a single finger sliding under my chin and tilting it up so that for a split second, our eyes connected, and I saw the whirlpool of emotion floating around inside his. Then I jammed my eyelids together, _fast_. I, Maximum Ride, was not too sure that I liked feeling so vulnerable.

He chuckled softly, and I cracked an eyelid open. "Hey." I reprimanded him weakly. "It ain't my fault that your kisses scare the bejeezus out of me. Maybe you should work on that." He sighed, pulling back so that he wasn't touching me anymore, before absently reaching out to comb my hair back behind my ears with his fingers.

"I wasn't going to kiss you." He muttered, pausing to raise a dark eyebrow. "But if that last part was a request…" I laughed nervously.

"No. No it wasn't." His face fell, and I backpedaled. "It's not that I don't _like_ you kissing me or anything…" _Shoot. I didn't just say that, did I? _"But it just makes me feel really weird, and there are so many things that could go wrong, and-" He interrupted me.

"Weird? Like good weird, or bad weird?" I squeezed my eyes shut in frustration, a single tear leaking out of the side of one eye. _No! I can't cry. Not in front of Fang, not now!_ I hastily wiped it away.

"I don't know!" I practically yelled at him. He fell silent for a moment, before reaching out to cup my cheeks in his calloused hands.

"Wanna find out?" He asked softly, and he kissed me, for the what- _fourth_ time now? I mean jeez, you'd think the kid would know when to take a break.

Except this one was different. Softer, more innocent, as if Fang was trying to show me how uncomplicated a kiss could be. I hate to say it, but I let myself go a bit, not really kissing him back—not _really._

It was Fang who pulled away, though not totally, just so that his forehead was pressed against mine, eyes shut.

"Weird?" He breathed after a moment. I swallowed.

"Good weird." I managed to choke out. He pulled away completely, brightening considerably.

"Good weird?" He repeated, half astonished. "The Great Maximum Ride actually admitted to _liking_ a kiss?" I punched him lightly in the arm, still hard enough to bruise.

"Hey, weird is weird. And this doesn't mean anything." I warned, somewhat pleased that I'd resisted the urge to run away at two hundred miles per hour, maybe through the open window. He just grinned, and my stomach did another few somersaults.

"Sure." He said bluntly, his smile widening. "Sure. You know what? Just—think on it, okay?" I pursed my lips, staring ruefully at my bare feet.

"I don't think not thinking about it is an option." I said softly, and I swear his smile could have wrapped twice around his head. He looked a little looney, actually.

"Whatever." And then he strode out of the room, leaving me to bring a finger to my lips and wonder what the heck had just happened.

_First Max. Ride fanfic- reviews would be nice. ._


End file.
